


As in Olden Days, Happy Golden Days

by Werelibrarian



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Mistletoe, Nelsons galore, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 16:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17145497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Werelibrarian/pseuds/Werelibrarian
Summary: Something was happening in the ever-decreasing space between them, something they were talking around was refusing to keep on being ignored. "Foggy, I've got a confession to make.""Yeah?""I could have set them straight. I could have said I was just your roommate. I didn't want to.""I know, you told me—""Foggy," Matt interrupted, and slid his hand over Foggy's elbow, under the covers. But he had no more words to follow, just Foggy’s name over and over again like a rhythm. An pulse of electricity; a magnetic pull.





	As in Olden Days, Happy Golden Days

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for tumblr user Rumshop

It was the morning of the 24th of December, and New York City was whirling with the feeling of an excited kid getting ready for a party. But not Matt. Oh, he had the normal reasons for not feeling cheery: the fact that everyone in his dormitory had gone home to their families but he was an orphan so he was all alone. Even his roommate had left, even though said roommate had actually begged and cajoled and tried to bribe him into joining the Nelson Christmas. Those were the normal reasons that Christmas never meant a party for Matt Murdock. But this year, he had another reason. This year, he had a mission.

The Nelsons lived over their butcher shop on 57th Street. Foggy had told Matt all about the tiny apartment he'd grown up in, him and his parents and his brother and sister and his grandma. How aunts and uncles lived in the apartments on either side, and they all worked in the shop, and how he'd been twelve before he realized that not all families introduced the kids to delicatessen responsibility by putting them on a rota to burp the sauerkraut canisters so they didn't explode.

Matt ducked under an awning, shaking snow from his hair. He could smell salt and pork and warm bread seeping through the crack in the door, so he raised his fist and pounded on the glass.

"We're not open yet!" a man's voice called from inside. Matt pressed his lips together and knocked again. The man inside stalked out from behind the counter and started throwing the locks open. "Hey! We open at 9, can't you read—oh."

"Is this Nelson's Meats?"

"Yeah. Look, I'm sorry about the joke but we're not open for another half hour."

"I'm here to see Mrs. Nelson," Matt said. "It's about her son," he said loudly when the man made to interrupt.

"Alright, but she's slicing prosciutto, so it's your funeral. Anna!"

Someone screamed from a back room. "I'm slicing prosciutto!"

"There's a kid here about Foggy!"

A small, roundish woman stalked out of a back room shucking crinkly food-preparation gloves from her hands. "Alright, what's this all about?"

Matt drew himself up. "Mrs. Nelson, my name is Matt Murdock and I—"

Mrs. Nelson pointed at him. "Foggy's roommate from Columbia?"

"Yes ma'am. I'm here because Foggy told me that he told you that he was bisexual and you didn't--"

"Did he invite you for Christmas?"

Matt's brain tripped over itself. "No ma'am. I mean yes, he did but I can't, because--"

"Are you sure? We've got space."

"I'm sure, ma'am. I'm here because--"

The man who opened the door was laughing into his fist. "Yeah, why are you here anyway?"

"Quit interrupting and let the kid talk, Fred. Go on honey, tell us why are you're here."

Matt stabbed his cane at the ground. "I'm here because you don't believe Foggy's bi because he's never had a boyfriend!"

In the silence, Mrs. Nelson put her hands over her mouth. Matt dropped his entire face into his. He might only be in his first year of law school but some speaker he was turning out to be.

Mrs. Nelson threw her arms around Matt.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry." She was rocking Matt back and forth. "He could have just told us about you instead of arguing with us. Edward!" she shouted, her chin still hooked over Matt's shoulder, "come meet Foggy's boyfriend!"

Matt choked.

***

At around four o'clock, Matt heard familiar combat boots on the stairs, and then the door burst open. "Okay, Ma, this better be the last thing. I got dark chocolate, milk chocolate, regular cocoa powder, dutch processed cocoa powder, black cocoa powder, and something called cacao nibs. If this cake isn't the best thing I've ever tasted, I'm gonna run away to the circus because I've been shopping since eight this morning and—Matt?"

Matt, perched on a hassock with his hands in his lap and half a scarf wrapped around his neck, waved. The other end of the scarf was still being knitted into existence by Foggy's grandmother, who murmured a quiet hello.

"Hey! Matt! It's Matt! Good to see you, Matt!" Foggy said slowly. "I thought you had a thing."

"Honey?" Anna yelled from the kitchen before Matt could answer.

"Yeah?" Foggy called.

"Yes, Mrs. Nelson?" Matt called at the same moment. Foggy's head whipped around.

"Ok, what's going on here?" Foggy said, holding up both hands.

Anna came out wiping her hands on an apron. "Oh, Foggy, you're back. Did you get my chocolate?" Wordlessly, Foggy held out a bulging grocery bag.

Anna took it, and kissed Foggy's cheek. "Next time, just tell me what's going on in your life, baby. I know you're going to be a lawyer but I can love you without being argued into it."

"Oh…kay…" Foggy said. "Thanks?"

Foggy's dad came into the living room carrying a bottle. "Matt, son, I've got this fancy Macallan that Anna's cousin sent us last year. Do you drink whiskey?"

Foggy's parents were so nice. Matt felt his face warm. "There wasn't a lot of it around when I grew up. But I'll try some?"

"I'll get you a glass."

"Thanks Eddie,"

"'Eddie'? Hi, I'm Foggy, I'm your son, you know, actually." Foggy said, flapping his hand back and forth.

"I like this one better," Eddie said, jerking his thumb at Matt, his voice full of laughter. "He's polite."

Matt tucked a grin into his scarf as the creaky laugh of Grandma Lainey filled the room.

"Don't you start with me, Grandma," Foggy threatened, leaning over to kiss her on top of the head. "You like me better than Matt, don't you?"

"You're a very good grandson," Grandma Lainey reassured. "Because you brought me such a lovely grandson-in-law."

Foggy, still bent at the waist and lips probably still puckered, froze. Matt tried to edge away, but Grandma Lainey tugged on the scarf with a tutting sound.

"Mom, stop scaring Foggy's boyfriend!" Anna shouted.

"Counsellor," Foggy's voice sounded choked. "A word?"

He took Matt by the elbow and started to tow him away, flipping Grandma Lainey's knitting off Matt's neck. The bedroom door clicking shut behind him made Matt swallow hard. He inhaled, and smelled a history of teenage Foggy: gym clothes and hair products, ancient cigarette smoke and cinnamon, ballpoint pen ink and photocopied paper.

"Okay, so. I'm gonna need." Foggy made a frustrated gesture. "Significant amounts of backstory. Right now, if you can."

Matt gulped. His neck was cold. "You remember when you told me your family didn't believe you when you said you were bi?"

"Whoa, whoa, that's not true, they said 'but how can you be sure if you've never dated a guy?'"

"That's just as bad."

"Yes it is. Continue."

"I couldn't stop thinking about it, so I came here with a very good argument that your parents were wrong and not treating you very well."

"Thanks, I think. So at what point in the argument did you become my boyfriend?"

Matt's face blazed. Didn't he wish. "I would like to say, in my own defence, that I tried really hard to stick to my principles and also my prepared notes but your mom keeps calling me honey."

Foggy threw up his hands. "Oh my god, you're supposed to be a lawyer, you can't let the other side get to you with a pet name!"

"And then your cousin Mitch came by and now he's driving me to Midnight Mass later, and your grandma said 'you need a scarf'" and what was I supposed to do, break their hearts?"

"Wow, someone's got a high opinion of themselves…"

"And then your dad called me son," Matt moaned, hands clawing at his face. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Aw, tiny Matt feels," Foggy said, voice full of sympathy. "You can share my parents if you want. They deserve one good kid at least."

Matt bit his lip. Of course Foggy had no idea that Matt had just last month decided to stop pretending he wasn't head over heels in love with his roommate. How could he know? Foggy probably just saw awkward, geeky, perpetually hot-faced Matt and, since they'd only known each other a couple of years or so, figured that's how Matt was naturally.

All of a sudden, the bedroom door exploded inwards. "They're in here!" Candace Nelson shouted. She was eleven years old and had her hands on her hips. "They had the door closed!"

"They're dating, I'll allow it!" Anna shouted back.

"But I'm dating Noah and he's not allowed in my room!" Candace stomped off. "That's discrimination!"

"You can have my sister, if you want," Foggy sighed.

"Thanks, I'm good," Matt said.

***

At dinner, which was held in a large room above the shop, every aunt loaded up Matt's plate with food and every uncle loaded up Matt's glass with drink, till he was flushed and full and on the edge of running screaming from all the people who were being So. Nice. That's when Foggy swooped in.

"Scuse me, I need to borrow this guy for just a second," Foggy said, taking Matt gently by the arm and maneuvering him away from a clutch of cousins.

"Wait, I have a—" Matt pointed down.

"You have a what? Oh, Jacqueline, get off his leg," Foggy ordered, detaching a toddler who had grabbed Matt's calf like a koala some ten minutes earlier and hefting her into a random pair of arms. "Here, you're all red in the face, do you want to sit by the window?"

Matt nodded. Foggy's arm was across his back and he was being led away from the warm, food-scented, utterly overwhelming noise to bask in a bracing gust of New York winter wind. Matt breathed in till he could feel the snow at the bottom of his lungs.

"Better?"

Matt sighed. Foggy's arm was still across his back. "Much."

"They're a lot. Normal people pace themselves with this bunch. But you, massive over-achiever that you are, had to jump in with both feet and a couple of feet that don't even belong to you. We coulda started with something smaller than a Nelson Christmas. Like Nelson Arbor Day."

"They're really nice," Matt said. The cold air on his face was helping him focus on Foggy's voice and not the happy, laughing rabble behind him.

"Yeah, they are," Foggy said lovingly. "If you have the tolerance." He pressed a glass into Matt's hand. "It's water. No more Macallan till you go back to your normal colour." Foggy touched his index finger to the heat of Matt's cheek.

"You're not the boss of—" Matt started to giggle.

"I'm your boyfriend tonight, Murdock, you listen to what I say," Foggy giggled back.

Matt sipped the water and tried not to swoon internally. He'd take Foggy for a boyfriend for tonight, since there was no way he'd ever have him for real. It'd be like a Christmas miracle.

"Hey Foggy!" Fred yelled from across the room. "Look up, bro!"

Foggy tilted back his head. "Oh no."

"Mm?"

"Nothing," Foggy squeaked.

Fred started to make kissing sounds. A few other cousins were joining in. Matt's stomach started jittering—into his throat and then down into his shoes like a defective elevator.

"Doesn't sound like nothing."

"I've got mouthwash in my bag, Foggy!" Cousin Charlotte hooted.

Matt gulped. "There's mistletoe, isn't there?"

"Nope. You can't see it, therefore it isn't there." Foggy argued stoutly, probably more for their audiences' sake than Matt's, because Fred guffawed.

"Are uncle Foggy and uncle Matt gonna kiss?" a knee-high voice asked. Matt put his hand over his mouth. He was an uncle now?

"As soon as uncle Foggy finds his testi—" someone got elbowed in the gut before they could finish, "—courage."

"Oh god, they're all watching. Matt, do your thing," Foggy hissed.

"What thing?" Matt hissed back

"I don't know, whatever you do to make people agree with you." Matt blinked. Foggy wanted him to punch the Nelson family? Thankfully Foggy continued with, "do something distracting! Take off your shirt! Can you tap dance?"

Matt rolled his eyes. Foggy was starting to smell like nervous sweat and panic, which did absolutely nothing for Matt's self-esteem. He'd kissed several people in his life and none of them reacted like Foggy, like they were going to get shot. "Just hold still and we'll get this over with—"

"No wait!" Foggy yelped, as Matt took him by the ears and pressed a dry kiss to his cheek, close enough to his mouth that Matt tasted his surprise exhale. "Oh."

"There," Matt said drily, as the Nelson clan whooped. "Was that so bad?"

Heat was rising from Foggy's collar. Relief that it was over, most likely. "Nope," he said, voice high. "Not so bad."

Matt slapped his back and waited till Foggy beelined towards the alcohol before pressing his lips to the back of his hand. He could feel the texture of Foggy's skin there still and would, he guessed, for the rest of his life.

***

Mitch and his wife dropped Matt off at his church with promise to come get him when midnight mass at their own parish ended.

"You don't have to drive me back to Columbia, I can just—"

Mitch interrupted him with a goodnatured scoff. "What do you mean? We're taking you back home."

"That's what I just—"

"No, like, back to our building. You're staying till Christmas morning, aren't you?"

Matt's mouth hung open. "I." He said after a long silence. "I can't, my toothbrush is in my dorm room."

"I'll pick one up at the bodega on the way," Mitch said, craning his neck that made it clear he was looking at Matt in the rear-view mirror. "We're really glad you came this year. And we're really glad we haven't scared you off yet."

"Don't go yet, uncle Matt," Mitch's daughter, mostly asleep in her car-seat next to Matt, mumbled. "There's pancakes tomorrow."

"Oh, um."

"Okay, hold everything," Mitch's wife Holly said. She turned around and put her hand lightly on Matt's knee. "After Mass, we'll drive you anywhere. Back to the dorm, or back to the apartment. Don't listen to Mitch, he's a Nelson. He has no boundaries and thinks it's hospitality."

That was very accurate. Matt smiled despite himself.

"You think about it, and let us know later. We'll pick you up right where we drop you off."

"Oh, okay, thanks." Matt said. The car rolled to a stop in front of St. Agnes', which smelled of incense and pine boughs, and Holly reached back to disentangle her daughter's hand, which even in sleep was gripping Matt by the coat pocket.

After Mass, he lit a candle for his parents, and had a talk with Father Lantom, and as they walked down the steps, Mitch and Holly were already there.

"Got you a toothbrush," Mitch said, instead of hello.

"I see you're in good hands, Matthew. Goodnight. Merry Christmas," Father Lantom said, laughter threaded under his words.

Most of the kids and a lot of the parents were asleep by the time they returned to the room above the shop. Eddie Nelson was holding court in one corner and Anna was surrounded by a clutch of wine-glass holding cousins in another. She called Matt over as Holly poured herself a glass.

"Look at my son's beautiful boyfriend," she gushed, pulling Matt close and ruffling his hair. Her voice had the plush quality of the happily tipsy. "You two are just the sweetest."

"Oh, well, I don't know about that," Matt demurred.

"I'm so happy you're in his life, can I just say that? I know we're a lot to take in all at once, but Foggy adores you, and you're family now."

"But you just met me," Matt barely squeezed the words out of his throat.

"Foggy talked about you a lot," Cousin Charlotte said. "Like. A lot a lot."

"More than my husband talks about me," another cousin sniffed.

"Stop it, don't you be making Matt's blood pressure spike," Anna admonished. She put her hand on Matt's chest. "Family," she pronounced. "I'm the mom and what I say goes." What exactly was Matt supposed to say to that? He murmured a quiet acquiescence. "You go on down to the apartment, honey, and get some sleep. The kids'll probably be pouncing on you as soon as the sun comes up."

Matt slipped into the apartment, and found Foggy waiting by the door, a book open in his lap. "Hey," he said, scrambling to his feet.

"Hey," Matt returned. A tendril of something like nervousness was making its way up his spine.

Foggy kept talking in a soft voice and led Matt down the hallway. From the living room there was a symphony of children's sleepy snuffles. "The kids are sleeping everywhere. I didn't know if you'd be ok with getting around, so I waited. I got some sweats that'll fit you and Mitch dropped off a toothbrush."

"Thanks, Foggy." They were whispering now. Instead of putting Matt's hand in the crook of his arm, Foggy had taken Matt by both forearms and was walking backwards, gently drawing him towards the bedroom.

"Here's the bathroom. Everything's laid out inside," Foggy said so quietly Matt bent his head towards the sound, even though he didn't need to. "I'll wash up in the kitchen."

Part of Matt was already so relaxed as to have gone to sleep, the exhaustion he'd been feeling from the day's energetic socializing now smoothed out by Foggy's quiet care. "Do I get a sleeping bag?"

"Yeah, it's in my room."

Matt brushed his teeth and washed his face in a daze. He changed into clothes that smelled of Foggy and pinched himself a few times to re-centre himself. Today had been crazy, on the edge of too much. Too much food. Too much loud talking. Too much welcome. Too much Foggy.

And there Foggy was, waiting for Matt when he opened the bathroom door. "Ready for bed?" He put out his arm again. Soft voice. Soft skin under Matt's fingers. Matt's mouth was inexplicably dry.

"I thought you said I had a sleeping bag."

"It's just a figure of speech, Murdock," Foggy chuckled as they went into Foggy's bedroom. "Don't be so—oh."

At the end of Foggy's bed was a sleeping bag. Inside the bag was a small child. Foggy knelt and shook the little bundle. "Benny, you're in Matt's spot. Why aren't you in Theo's room?"

"Snoring," Benny moaned, not even waking up all the way.

"Come on, you can't stay here, Matt needs the sleeping bag," Foggy said, trying to physically pry Benny from his cocoon, but slumped in defeat when Benny slithered all the way down inside and bunched up the opening. A sleepy, but insistent "nooooooo" emitted through the nylon and stuffing. "Shit," Foggy muttered. "Ok. This is what we're going to do. I'm going to sleep in Theo's bed and you're taking mine."

Matt nodded.

"Though you'd better get some painkillers ready for me, since he's only got a twin bed and I will definitely be kissing the floorboards before breakfast," Foggy continued ruefully.

"What? No, you can't do that."

"Okay, you take Theo's bed and he can sleep in the double with me."

Matt paused. He could smell Foggy's bed. It had clean sheets on it, and he'd grown used to Foggy's scent through living with him. Theo, on the other hand, was an unfamiliar, sweaty, 16-year-old boy whose bed, unfortunately, Matt could also smell from here.

"Can't we just use yours and leave Theo where he is?" Matt suggested. Foggy's heart jumped, and Matt forced a chuckle. "I'm pretty sure I don't kick, do I?"

"No, that's not—" Foggy cut himself off with a gulp. "If you're sure."

"It's almost two in the morning, and your mom promised a small child would be jumping on me by six. I can grin and bear four hours in a bed with you."

Foggy snorted. "You say the nicest things, Murdock."

When they climbed in under Foggy's heavy winter duvet, they left an ocean of space between them. Benny could have fit. Cousin Mitch could have fit. But they were both on their sides, facing each other, and Matt wondered if Foggy was looking at his face, and what he might have been thinking, if he was.

"Thanks for coming to Christmas," Foggy said, reaching out and touching Matt's elbow.

"I'd say no one gave me a choice, but thanks for letting me stay," Matt whispered. Foggy shuffled closer.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I wasn't here to protect you from the steamrolling. But getting yourself mistaken for my boyfriend, that's all on you, just so you know."

Matt grinned, and Foggy's heart did a barrel roll. "Will you tell them we broke up after New Year's?"

"I guess that's the smart thing to do," Foggy sighed. It made Matt's hair ruffle. "They may still invite you to things and just disinvite me."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not kidding, Matt. Everyone here loves the crap outta you."

"Even you?" The words were out there before Matt's brain had any say in the matter, and he felt his joints lock up with the need to bolt out of bed, out of the apartment and far away, but Foggy just laughed.

"I kissed you under the mistletoe didn't I?"

"I think I kissed you, Foggy, not the other way around."

"Right right. Anyway, to answer your question, even me. I asked a whole lot of times, didn't I? I loved having you here today."

"But not like a boyfriend, right?" Oh god, he was that level of tired where his mouth was on autopilot.

"Man, don't be that kind of jerk with me," Foggy chuckled, poking Matt in the shoulder, "I'm sharing my bed with you and everything."

Matt, feeling let off the hook and at the same time strangely bereft, turned his smile into the pillow and closed his eyes. He could feel the warmth Foggy was radiating, and he curled towards it instinctively.

"If I tell them we broke up, will you come back next year?" Foggy asked, right as Matt was about to drift off.

"They won't want me here next year," Matt murmured.

Foggy shuffled closer again. "Dude, they adore you. And I wanted you here even when you weren't my boyfriend."

Something was happening in the ever-decreasing space between them, something they were talking around was refusing to keep on being ignored. "Foggy, I've got a confession to make."

"Yeah?"

"I could have set them straight. I could have said I was just your roommate. I didn't want to."

"I know, you told me—"

"Foggy," Matt interrupted, and slid his hand over Foggy's elbow, under the covers. But he had no more words to follow, just Foggy’s name over and over again like a rhythm. An pulse of electricity; a magnetic pull.

"Oh my god," Foggy whispered, and it was like an ice-bath over Matt's head. "You like me."

"I'm sorry," Matt blurted, and made to throw back the covers. "I shouldn't have—in your bed and everything—"

"Oh my god," Foggy said again, leaping out of the bed. Benny snorted and buried himself face down into the pillow, but didn't wake up. "You like me! Get your cane, we're going downstairs." He gathered up the duvet in his arms and then flapped his hand at Matt. "Your cane, come on!"

They tromped out of the apartment, past snuffling cousins and the sound of Eddie and Anna snoring in their bedroom, and down to the room above the shop where the Christmas party had been held. It smelled of room-temperature white wine and food scraps, meaning the tuckered-out hosts had probably just shoved all the dishes to one side to clean in the morning.

"What are we doing here?" Matt demanded. His wrist was caught in Foggy's grip, and he was being pulled towards the back corner they'd giggled in earlier that night.

"You'll see." Foggy promised, throwing open the window and draping the duvet over his shoulders.

"You sure about that? Holy crap, Foggy, it's freezing."

"I'd say look up, but maybe you remember what was here the last time we were by this window."

The mistletoe. Matt was sure that he'd thought of every possible reaction Foggy would have to finding out about Matt's feelings but 'cruel' wasn't one of them. Trying to swallow the stone in his throat, he grit his teeth and tried to push past, but Foggy caught him by the arms and held him, and then wrapped the ends of the duvet around him so they were pressed together under its weight. "Merry Christmas, Matt," Foggy whispered, and kissed him.

Matt wasn't sure how long they stood like that, the wind chilling their faces but their bodies growing warmer under the blanket. It was lazy and slow and desperate and uncontrollable and after god knows how long, they ended up on the floor, all tangled up under the blanket and completely uninterested in letting go long enough to sort themselves out.

"Wait a minute." Matt pressed up on his hands. Foggy made a sad noise and followed him with his lips. "Did you make us get out of a perfectly good bed to kiss under mistletoe?"

"Possibly," Foggy said, and pulled him back down by the back of the neck.

"My god, and people say I'm the dramatic one," Matt marvelled, going down happily. "So am I a better present than a lump of coal?" he joked, letting Foggy roll on top and press him down by the hips.

Foggy paused and pulled back like he was considering the picture Matt made—flushed and pink-cheeked from the cold, hair a tugged-on mess, breathing hard because who knew Foggy Nelson could kiss like a silver screen star. When he leaned down to kiss Matt again, it was soft and achingly slow, like an oath pressed to Matt's lips. "You're what I've been waiting for my whole life."

Matt touched Foggy's smiling mouth. And then he yawned.

"Back to bed?"

"Can we stay here? I mean, close the window, but its weird with Benny in the room," Matt pleaded. Foggy was already reaching for the cushions of the old sofa, setting them up in a sort of mattress arrangement and tucking a throw pillow under Matt's head.

"You gonna be here in the morning?" Foggy murmured, laying his forehead against the back of Matt's neck.  

"Of course," Matt said, reaching back and tugging Foggy's arm around his chest. "I was promised pancakes."

There were pancakes, but before them, there was a camera flash that startled Foggy into elbowing Matt in the gut, and a polaroid that was taped to the fridge despite many vocal and well-constructed objections from both Foggy and Matt.

And after the pancakes, there were presents, and then Boxing Day, and New Year’s Eve, and a year, and Hanukkah, and shortly after that, there was another Christmas and another. There were graduation ceremonies and walks in Central Park and eating bialys out of the bag under a single umbrella in the rain, and then an internship, and a napkin, and a big secret. There were new friends and lost loved ones and expensive suit jackets with blood stains on them. There was crying and screaming fights and cold silences and warm reunions and birthdays and new curtains and more Christmas parties.

And still the photograph stays on the fridge, and every few years Foggy tells the story to someone—a grand-niece who's grown tall enough to notice how on the fridge, there's an old fashioned photo of her uncles when they were young, or a new partner welcomed into the clan—of how a misunderstanding changed the course of the family, when Matt Murdock marched up to the front door of the Nelson homestead, was loved, and stayed.


End file.
